After the Fall
by Lexasstar
Summary: After Scarlett falls down the stairs and loses her baby, she and Rhett discuss their future.


A/N: This picks up when Scarlett regains consciousness after her fall down the stairs, and changes the rest of the book. GWTW was always one of my favorites but I never could accept the ending.

Scarlett was propped up in bed; she was in her room alone with her husband. She looked at him, waiting for him to say something, but his clenched jaw told her he wouldn't speak first.

"Are you happy now, Rhett?" she finally asked quietly.

"Happy? My wife is lying in bed injured, having just miscarried, and the last thing I said to her before she ended up in such a position, was that I wished it would happen. I'm feeling a lot of things, darling, but happy isn't one of them." His voice was much louder than hers, but not much more than a regular speaking voice.

"Alright, Rhett, are you _pleased_ that I'm not with child anymore? That you won't have to deal with neighbors wondering if the child is yours or not? That another child of yours won't have me as a mother?"

"I told you a long time ago that I didn't care if we had one child or twenty." His voice had returned to normal but his face had gone pale. "And I may not think of you as the most nurturing mother, not like Miss Melly, but I never wished that you would lose that baby… our baby."

"That's not what you said- you said hopefully I'd lose the baby."

He put his head down, breaking eye contact for the first time since he'd come into the room. He tugged on his nose, and at that moment he showed his age. "Actually I think I said 'Cheer up, maybe you'll have a-' well… you know."

"Oh much better that way, is it?" The venom in her voice spurred enough of a fight in him that he actually looked up.

"Well you seemed so upset that the baby was mine, I was simply suggesting that there was an opportunity for you to be happy again."

"Rhett," she said weakly, losing her will to fight with him any longer, "for once I was pleased to find I was with child. For once I was excited to share the news with you. I thought, like a fool, that you would be pleased and we'd be able to come closer than we've been in months. But you came home so cold. I wanted to tell you I was pregnant and we could celebrate together but you were so cruel. And when I told you of the baby you suggested I'd been unfaithful to you. I've never been to bed with someone else since we married- though the same can't be said for you."

"How was I to know you were happy when you've had Mr. Wilkes on your mind for over a decade? I know you haven't been to bed with him, but your heart has been with him since before we married. After you _suggested_ we sleep in different rooms how was I to know you would welcome me home with anything but contempt? And you didn't look happy when I got here, not happy that I was home or happy to be with child. How was I supposed to know that you'd had a change of heart?"

She didn't answer, she didn't have an answer. She had asked herself before why she had given up on Ashley, why she was so willing to finally settle down with Rhett- move back into the same bedroom and bare his children- give him anything he wanted. All she could come up with was that it's what she wanted. She wanted him; she wanted him to be happy with her. She lifted her arm, wordlessly.

Rhett had noticed her growing paler, looking positively ill, and went to her bedside to hold her proffered hand. He raised it to his lips and placed a light kiss to the skin just below her wedding ring. When she began to pull her hand down, he let go- thinking she wanted her hand back, but she tightened her fingers around his hand and tugged again. He slipped off his shoes and slid onto the bed beside her, he put his arm around her shoulders and she rested her head on his chest.

"I was so happy," she whispered, pulling him closer.

"How was I supposed to know?" His question was whispered into her hair, but he was fairly certain she was already sleeping as her breathing was shallower than before and she didn't answer him.

It was in that moment, holding her while she slept- still injured, that he swore to himself to do anything that would make her happy, whether that meant leaving her alone or renewing their marriage. He hoped she would want to share a bed again, that she'd be ready to give up on Wilkes and finally come home to him, but if she didn't he do whatever she wanted. This beautiful vixen who had stolen his heart in the library of Twelve Oaks so long ago still had him wrapped around her finger. He would no longer push her away; he would only go if she wanted him to. He would not see her crumpled on the floor again, would not force himself on her again, and would not wish her ill ever again. He could have gone his whole life without seeing her in so much pain, without seeing her face when she learned the baby was gone, without watching her pale from sitting up and talking.

When Scarlett had healed completely she asked Rhett to move back into her bedroom. She soon sold her half of the lumber yard and asked Melanie to open a store with her, a store that sold blankets and curtains and uncut fabric. Just over a year after her fall down the stairs Scarlett was with child again. She and Rhett went to Charleston for a few weeks to celebrate. Scarlett gave birth to a healthy little boy with black hair only a few weeks later. Although the last baby left Scarlett unable to have more children, she and Rhett remained together happily raising the four children they had. Scarlett sometimes looked at Ashley and wondered how she could've ever seen him as man enough to live with without irritating her, but she never desired him again.

-In my version Bonnie never died, Melanie didn't miscarry and die, and Rhett didn't leave Scarlett. This is how I like to think the story ended. With Scarlett allowing herself to be vulnerable and becoming disillusioned with Ashley. Rhett stopping his long standing affair with Belle Watling and the two lived happily until Scarlett died in 1907. Rhett followed only two weeks later, and the gossips of the town suggested his mourning had killed him. -


End file.
